


Vir Su Ma Vhenan (A Path Towards My Heart)

by Valkurion



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Sex, Smut, mature content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 13:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5969368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkurion/pseuds/Valkurion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirkwall, the calm before the Mage Rebellion and Varric has organised a game of Wicked Grace for all of Serah Hawke's associates at the Hanged Man, only the illustrious champion to be decides a night in at home in Hightown is more appealing to her. Varric knows full well she has a guest tonight, and she's been learning some elvish for her company...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vir Su Ma Vhenan (A Path Towards My Heart)

In the many years that the Champion spent as the pillar of Kirkwall many things changed. Faces were lost and gained, players and shakers shifted about the malleable structure outside the Circle and the Qunari were the main threat the stability of the buzzing nest. While the rest of the world had rebuilt what the Blight took, Kirkwall was struggling to remain as structurally sound as it had been for the past hundreds of years. 

Hawke had been living in the Amell estate with her mother and the two dwarves for over four years since the expedition into the Deep Roads. So much had happened in those early months; meeting the entire entourage, solving problems, Bethany’s trouble with the templars and her relocation to the Circle, and Merrill. Just Merrill.

The elf was purely adorable to Hawke, the way she knew absolutely nothing about humans or their customs, the way she dressed and made her hair and the way she thought everything vulgar and pessimistic about the world was just another part of daily life, taking it on the chin and laughing at it. The two had become incomprehensibly close over the past weeks, Merrill continuing to take each of Hawke’s advances the wrong way and then the Champion following to explain them and repeating the process. 

Now it was crossing over into dusk; Hawke had already retired from the day of exploiting and then murdering thugs for the extra sovereigns, like she needed the money. Varric had proposed a usual round of Wicked Grace at The Hanged Man with the usual implement of him buying the first round to any daring competitors. Isabela didn’t dare take his offer a second time after the last game; she had lost forty gold pieces and all but her bandolier clothing wise; Hawke enjoyed the view at least but Fenris was less than impressed. This very evening Hawke had to pass the card game, she was expecting company this good night and Varric knew exactly the kind; the dwarf could never miss a trick. He was like clockwork the way he could analyze the subtle changes in a person, elf or human or even qunari; and they were impossible to judge. 

The sun fell low over the small shelters of Lowtown as Hawke watched from the landing window; the entire city on display, her city almost. Bodan and his son had fled the house, off attending a small gathering of Hightown elderly women with Leandra which left the entire mansion to the young mage. The curtains were drawn in thirty seconds with a snap of magic from the Fade, the candles following with a sharp bolt of flame from her fingertips. She always loved it when she could use her magic talents for the smallest of duties, it just made her busy life all the more easier. She’d left the bedroom door open just in case to boot. She wasn’t planning on ambushing her elven friend to the sheets but she also didn’t take the option completely off the cards. 

This final meeting was to be the last push. Hawke knew what she wanted; Merrill, and as a whole, the entirety of her, her everything. If she could achieve this feat then her she considered her goals in the City of Chains to be complete and her body free, regardless of whether she was a mage. 

The slender and fairly short elf entered the mansion with a quick rasp of her delicate knuckles on the second door, knowing well that Hawke never turned away visitors, and she’d being entering the house fairly often as of the last few weeks. Their usual exchanges in the Amell estate included debates and just general chit-chat about their lives; the Champion’s always filled with such peril and adventure when not dealing with the usual feast of city problems while it seemed that all Merrill could do with the time spare was rebuild the Eluvian, and then organise these delightful house calls. Her figure had never changed, it was slim and slender, curves in the perfectly correct places and the sharpness remaining in the tip of her nose and the joining of her chin. Her jawline was one of the many attractive things about the young woman and not the most eye catching to the Champion. There were her hips, coming from seemingly nowhere out of her slim sides then coming back down into those draping legs. Her arms always seemed to look as if they were weightless, coming from her strong shoulders like a gas of sorts and always lovely at Hawke’s touch, like a fabric of the highest quality. Her eyes were defiant in the night, jewels in her skull blazing out of control in the dim candle light as the sun continued to fall in the backdrop. They were always so big, beaming at Hawke and twinkling just a tad with intent. And then there was the one place Hawke always felt guilty in looking; her breasts. Because of Merrill’s nature and knowing next to nothing about human behaviour even still she never saw Hawke’s eyes glancing down at the plumpness lifting the green cloth of her elvish robe. She would sometimes almost fantasise about the roundness that made them, the tender flesh that would give them their fullness and how they would feel if they ever made their way into Hawke’s inviting hands. 

She dragged her fingers along the smooth and varnished wood of the balcony as Merrill made her way into the main hall of the estate. Hawke’s eyes told her one thing and she wondered if the innocent elf received loud and clear, the equally shrouded look in her slightly greyed pupils told her she did, and that the elf had the same idea. 

“I was beginning to think I’d have to join the boys over at the Hanged Man” Hawke started, continuing the drape her strong, mage hands over the wood of the balcony railing. She’d often take that stance when visitors arrived. She liked the irony of a mage being higher than most people in the City of Chains. Merrill was different to her though, and she quickly moved form her overlording position to gently slide her arm down the stairs to join her. If her guessing was correct, they’d soon be back up them and to the bedroom. She was wise to leave the option on the cards.

“I’m sorry Hawke” she sighed in her delicate accent. “The journey over took longer than I thought. Someone got mugged again in Lowtown” she replied in her innocent way, still not fully finding the tragedy in a mugging. 

Hawke smiled a rather intent grin, finally reaching her friend and quickly planting a soft peck on her smooth cheek. “Instantly forgiven Merrill” she smiled. She held Merrill by the arms, the two joined as they both looked into the other’s eyes giving the same look of already built up desire. Merrill was beginning to catch on.

“‘Ma’halla” was her only reply still retaining her innocence yet said on the cusp of a sigh of release. Hawke had been brushing up on her elvish from one of the many emissaries from the Dales in recent weeks to make her approaching on the elven mage all the more smoother but there were still some phrases she didn’t yet understand.

“I’m afraid I don’t know that one yet. Does it mean something to do with Halla?” She asked moderately perplexed. She could take an educated guess but she didn’t want to embarrass herself in front of her desired, she enjoyed remaining the one out of the two who always kept her cool. 

“My halla, really” Merrill began to explain. “It’s used as an endearment, to a very close friend” he eyes dropped to the floor, not ashamed but nervous with the strong aura of the powerful specimen of womanhood. 

Hawke took it right to heart, however a little twisted given her railing mood. She extended the grin again and an all too familiar dastardly look in her eyes. “Oh. Just a friend?” 

Merrill instantly blushed, the heat rising to her cheeks and then some more falling down to her core. Hawke was mesmerising, a catch for any man who wished to pursue her. But at heart she was a mage and a self confessed lesbian; the only people who had any chance of snagging her from the floor were either Isabela or Merrill, and judging by all the elvish it was destined to be the elf. Her lips curled at the edge with a smug feeling of wishful thinking. She knew what the Champion wanted as she desired it too. Her green elven eyes met the open door to Hawke’s master bedroom. The Champion’s head turned to follow the gaze. She knew she was right to leave it on the cards.

Hawke dragged her lips towards Merrill’s flicked out ear, her lips wet with desire to ravish her quaint guest. “‘Ma’haurasha” left her mouth, her strings down below unraveling with the desire the word brought to Merrill. Both knew what the poetic order of vowels and consonants meant, and Merrill for once took her advance as the literal.

The ajar door almost burst from the hinges as Merrill more than enthusiastically back through it, tugging on the Champion’s arm the entire way. Their calm exchange had already blossomed and burst into a flame of the ethereal desire between them by the time they had cleared the stairs; Hawke was wooing the slender woman with her appropriately learned tongue the entire way, and she was loving how primal she was making the elf.

The Champion hopped forward and shut the door with her free foot as she closed the small space between the two, engaging for another kiss. 

She held the woman close, her left hand placed softly on her hip while the right brought her clothed leg up along her own. Merrill held her just as close, one hand firmly in the middle of her strong shoulder blades with the other gripped around her neck, bringing her beautiful face in close for another envelope of their soft lips. It empowering to Hawke as she was slightly taller than Merrill however still remaining average height among other humans, and liked being in control of almost everything. Strange for a mage, although she was a very different kind of mage now. 

Merrill’s yellow scarf quickly came off, followed by the brown material to cover her arms in one almost violent motion from the Champion. Her elvish hands moved straight for the slim belt around Hawke’s waist, removing it with a whip and allowing the tunic to pathetically cover the rest of her powerful body. The mages kicked off their shoes next, followed by Hawke pushing her dancing partner to the bed and snapping off the clutch of her woven belt. A quick and raspy “Ma serannas” left Merrill lips as her breath hitched at the loosening of the seal around her small waist. She fitted perfectly in Hawke’s sweet embrace. Her smaller body was so slender and curved into a sculpted figure Hawke had admired for year, and now she was all hers. Bethany had claimed Isabela a few times upon her midnight escapes from the Circle Tower and how Hawke had someone. 

She suddenly stopped in the rhythmic turning and removal of each other’s garments, staring into Merrill’s beaming and solitary happy face, the smile wide and spread across the entire width of her jawline. She wanted to say it, already and after so many months of thinking it and making the impossible advances. 

“Ar lath ma Merrill” 

The elf slowed, opening her eyes to gaze at Hawke through the small distance that had appeared between them. It caught her almost off guard. She knew Hawke had strong feelings for her but she was an elf and the Champion a human. She was caught, but she didn’t care, why should she? She had been invited and now they were about to become one, she didn’t want to hold anything back or regret anything. In the climate Kirkwall was entering neither could predict what the next day would bring and this was their evening. She blushed again, the twinkle in her jewelled eyes returning as she held Hawke’s cheek softly in one hand as she held herself over her on the red sheets of the king sized bed. 

“Me vhenan” followed her look of celestial want. She wanted more than sex, more than the simple act now, but the implications, the fact that she might be hers and vice versa. She gripped at Hawke’s shoulder blades, her voice wet with desire to match the dampness between her slender legs forming from the lust. “Sahlin” she gasped, beckoning for Hawke to break from the moment of pure and loving emotion and return to the rapid removal of very item of clothing that was left. The chemistry was already bubbling between them and now the other knew how they felt, it was ready and now all that remained was the consummation. Hawke was practically dripping already.

The leggings of both were next, then one removing the other’s tunic until all that remain were Hawke’s lace underwear two piece and Merrill’s very stylish woven corset piece that covered her midsection down to the silk between her legs. Hawke was nowhere near finished. 

The elf pushed herself up to catch her Champion with a soft peck of the lips, moving over to reverse the positions resulting in her planting herself over Hawke’s waistline, continuing to peck her way down the abdomen. Hawke gave out a slight giggle at the caress of soft lips on her fairly toned tummy. Merrill blushed again at the beautiful laughter, the quaint and daintiness of it as it fluttered around in her ears. Her lust soon returned when her eyes lowered from Hawke’s sapphire blue eyes to the two held curves coming from her chest. The Champion was never known for having a small bust, nor did she do anything to discourage it. She embraced it and did her utmost to remind almost every fair maiden who talked to her, at least in the early months of her residence at Kirkwall whilst working for Athenril; it helped with the business and she always got a laugh at acting like a magic induced mistress. However now they were the perfect encouragement to her elvish partner, so much so that after a few second of simply admiring their size and curves Merrill’s hand acting in a mind of its own as if fell to the clips at the side of her corset, slowly flicking at each one and allowing it to come undone.

It was about the single most seductive thing the elf had ever attempted to do, and it was all for Hawke. She was loving it; her hands still placed gently at the elf’s hips as she slowly removed the last of her clothing, one of her full scarlet lips held softly between her sparkling white teeth. She was teasing Hawke. Perplexing when one would think about it considering she was an elf and that she had barely any sexual experience as she had. Then it hit Hawke. Isabela she thought. 

As the last of the clasps was set free and the corset burst free from the wearer, allowing her averagely sized yet firm breast to breathe easy and be free, Hawke sat up again, bring her strong arms over the bare skin of Merrill’s back. The elf dug her fingernails into the clam-shell soft flesh of her lover’s own back in retort, another fumbling for the metal clasp of her bra to let her see the bareness of those mesmerising breasts she had already set her eyes on. Hawke was giggling a little under her breath when the adorable elf failed again and again to find and then undo the clasp. Merrill huffed a stout grunt at her awkward failure. The Campion returned with a soft kiss on her neck, her hushed whisper a veil of arousal and pent up emotion that continued to make Merrill all the more damper below. 

“Relax” she breathed, the warmth catching on the elf’s paler skin. “Let me” she continued, moving her own hands around the back of her chest and releasing the clasp of the bra in an instant, removing the strapless apparatus just as quickly and allowing her curvaceous bosom to flow before her lover. Merrill was almost in awe. She was almost abhorrent at this, her clumsiness taking full manifestation now at the worst time when she wanted seductiveness and raspiness for Hawke. The Champion smiled. 

Merrill let out a stout breath, her frustration with herself following as an echo as the room began to chill. Night was already drawing in as they were beginning to love. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at this” she sounded in disappointment. Hawke had to hold herself up with her right whilst she moved her left hand to cup Merrill’s face once again, bring her eyes to meet her own sapphire blue, that same devious and almost obnoxious grin returning to her mouth. 

“Then I suppose it’s fairly good I consider myself to be” she teased, suddenly gripping the right of Merrill’s tender breasts with the same hand and shoving her lips to the elf’s for a passionate exchange. Merrill was taken aback, so much surprise in such an advance, yet she already feel the sweet release it brought with more wetness seeping through her folds as the warm grip over her bosom brought her more lusty desire. 

Hawke moved her land holding the pair up gently and they fell back onto the red sheets made from the finest fabrics the bastards of Hightown had to offer. It was slowly turning into a fumble of hands draping over and through bundles of hair while clutching at shoulders and breasts and hips with their lips constantly enveloping in a passionate heat of soft and wet kisses. Hawke was getting more and daring however, her hands beginning to explore all of the contours and curves of the elf she had admired for the years and her tongue getting more and more excited as she began to taste Merrill’s own in her mouth. 

She broke away as the heat began to rise between them. “‘Ma’av’in ma vhenan” the Champion spoke more elvish, stirring Merrill up even more. It was the loveliest thing anyone had ever done for her; to learn the language of her people and a human at that. No one had done anything like that for her before. Not even her own clansmen had bothered to speak elvhenor to her for years except the Keeper. Now Hawke had purposely gone to rather extreme lengths just to please her; to speak the language of the people, to speak elvish. It didn’t even matter what she was saying, although Merrill was mesmerised at the meandering formula of vowels and flowing consonants, it was the fact that a human, Hawke of all people had learnt it, and she as speaking it. 

The twinkle returned and Merrill had one thing only to respond. “Ma su ma vhenan. Ma’ panelan, ma’ panelan” she responded softly, the celestial tone in her delicate and ancient voice, as if she was speaking with the voices of a thousand Dalish. 

Hawke caught the gist, but her vocabulary could only take her too far. Her eyebrows furrowed a little at the misunderstanding of Merrill’s tender poem. Another gentle smile returned to the elf’s face. She planted a soft kiss on her lover’s left cheek, then effortlessly moving another to her right. “It means. You move towards my heart. My warrior, my fighter” she explained softly. Everything about her was soft to Hawke, her body, her mind, her confusion at everything human and wrong in the tipping social system that was Kirkwall even the way she moved was soft. She loved it all. 

“Come here” the Champion whispered. It wasn’t about sex. It wasn’t anything physical at all anymore. It was more, much more.

Merrill dropped again into a lingering and low burning kiss, their lips daring not to part for sake that their worlds may break apart.

Hands moved down the contoured legs of the Champion, her silky underwear moving on the hooks of thumbs to leave her completely naked and exposed to the soothing chill lingering in from the autumn dusk coming to outside. She was right to leave that window open, however now her tender nipples began to stiffen, the elf’s too. With the underwear removed Hawke’s hands returned to the curves Merrill’s breasts formed, her thumbs gently swirling around the soft yet stiff bundles her nipples formed, driving her new lover gently mental. The hands of elf soon found their freedom, moving through the space between the sheets and the tender sump that was Hawke’s backside. It was luscious to feel and even more fun to dig her nails into. He teeth soon followed the playful rhythm of digging as they found the warm taste of Hawke’s bottom lip. It was almost strange, how innocent Merrill could be yet how playful and aroused she was becoming, as if almost primal before her new partner. It showed the impact the Champion had on her.

Hawke moved a hand, gripping the slender rear of the elf rather hard, a small clap sounding at the rushed excitement of her palm making contact. Merrill nearly jumped at the expression of lust, her breath hitching as she continued to lavish the woman with the wet exchange of kisses. Nevertheless Hawke couldn’t bare to stop now. She pulled Merrill’s hips closer to her, the bundles of nerves and wetness below calling for development and eventual release. Merrill didn’t want to stop either. With a single rock of her hips her silk made contact with the throbbing flesh of Hawke’s, the pair letting out a synchronised gasp as the muscles contracted at the touch. Hawke was reeling. 

Merrill continued to rock, each movement of her hips brought her silk into contact with the tender pearl Hawke was barely attempting to hide, and each small bump made Hawke gasp a little louder each time. It was magnificent to the mages. The rhythm failed to cease, the two began to increase the momentum of their hips, their cores rubbing gently and tenderly against each other. Hawke was slowly becoming stir crazy as Merrill continued to rock her hips forward with each thrust harder than the last, their pearls slowly unraveling and spotting the vision in their eyes.

The Champion had no choice but to hoist and hold herself up once again, one arm holding her strong self so her lips to regain their hold on Merrill’s. Her second hand had other ideas. First it gripped again at the soft bosom of her elven lover, then the fingers trickled downward, over the stiffness of the nipple with a flick to send lightning bolts down to her silk only for the fingers to meet them there with a circular motion of a rub already commencing. Merrill’s bejeweled eyes almost popped from the sockets once the contractions of her clit reached her nerve center. Her shoulders melted but she had to keep herself upright. Her hand soon found their positions in between Hawke’s shoulder blades and o her breast, gently twirling her stiff nipple between her index and thumb. Regardless of race Merrill could still attempt to please.

Hawke’s finger motions picked up pace as did the rocking of Merrill’s hips. “Ma’haurasha” the elf gasped as Hawke continued the heated rotary motion of her sparkling fingertips. Her dastardly smiled soon returned a soon as she saw how breathless she making her lover, and she feel the dripping from her silk, more than her own moistness seeping through. Now was the time. 

In one fell movement, just as fast as the grip of her rear, Hawke slid a finger inside the dripping fold of her elven partner and moved the arm holding her up closer so that she was ready to catch Merrill in her burst of aroused excitement. Her breathing practically stopped, her beating heart jumping in rhythm at the sudden and tender chill of the finger sliding inside her folds, every small muscle contracting and her arms seizing. It was glorious. The feel of Hawke’s flesh inside her and the texture each nerve could make out individually. “Hawke!” She squeaked. Hawke giggled a little as the began to retract her finger only to insert it deeper into the bundle of muscles and nerves that made up Merrill’s silk. 

Feeling soon returned to Merrill’s arms however her head was beginning to turn fluid in the rising ecstasy floating all around the room. The atmosphere felt like water, like they were both submerged and that every perpetual motion of their bodies was exaggerated and took twice as long to deliver. It wasn’t artificial, not drugs, just the whole euphoria that came with the sex; it almost felt like they were in the Fade. For all she knew they could have been. Hawke could have easily charmed the pair there in the middle of the sexual exchange and Merrill would not be able to tell the difference now. All she knew was the feeling of Hawke’s now doublet of fingers felt purely sensational and most complex feeling aroused release she’d felt in her life. 

She cupped her lover’s face and dragged her in again for a steamy kiss. “Fen” she breathed on the break and dragged her in again as the pounding of the fingers quickened, as did the grinding of her dainty hips. 

Hawke had another trick up her experienced sleeve. As she continued to rhythmically pound the life out of Merrill’s silk her thumb trailed upward while her index and middle did the work; she enjoyed the work she did. The shorter thumb soon found the targeted pearl that was the clit and picked up the past ceased rotary swirl, shooting flames through the skin and making Merrill’s stomach backflip again and again. Her eyes popped again. 

It didn’t long with the charm of the fingers to bring Merrill to term, the cusp of sweet release that was already the sensational. For her finisher Hawke slowed she finger movement just fraction to give her the time she needed to move her soft and sopping lips to Merrill’s slender neck. Her teeth sunk in flawlessly and she bit down, drawing the blood up from the body and suckling on it. 

Merrill’s eyes almost rolled back into her skull, the blur of the fluid heat in the room becoming visible and spots shooting up all over her peripherals. The climax was so much it was almost messy, seeping out all over Hawke’s fingers and then dripping onto the sheets as her pearl and silk became as numb as her knifed ears. The chill was completely ignored she was so hot with lusty desire. A series of inaudible gasps and breaths followed her orgasm. Hawke then let the pair down to the level of the bed and tossed the sheet over them as the breeze slowly became noticeable.

They lay there for almost, wrapped in the mixture of the red sheets and each other’s arms. Merrill occasionally let out the same content and flowery sigh to show she was happy. Hawke would plant a kiss on her forehead to show her delight at their performance. 

The elf soon broke the silence, finding her usual aura of bewildered curiosity whenever she was faced with a human situation. She had never gone through the sex and then the talk afterwards, hell she’d barely been through the sexual exchange, and nothing like the heavenly experience of pleasure Hawke had delivered to the throb between her legs before. 

“What happens now?” She asked softly, her eyes remaining closed. She almost knew that they were exclusive now, after the romantic poetry of elvish words Hawke was constantly giving her during their exchange but to ask was to be polite; Merrill’s mission in life was to be polite even to those who hated her, and Hawke often dealt with them in a flurry of her staff and paranormality from the Fade. 

Hawke turned over under the sheets and draped one leg over Merrill’s like a typical girl. “Whatever we want to happen. Although I’d love it if you’d become a rather permanent fixture in my life Merrill. I could hardly imagine it without your lovable nature, or that laugh” the mage replied in her almost fast Ferelden noble accent, even though she hadn’t been raised nobly. 

The naked elf giggled. “Oh Hawke you say the things” she struggled almost to edge past her high pitched laugh. 

“I mean it Merrill.” An idea struck her like a lightning bolt in battle. “Come live here.”

“What?” Merrill asked in a delighted shock.

“It pains me to think of my favourite eld stuck in that shack in the Alienage all alone. Come live here” Hawke explained again with her air of a higher class. Merrill never minded her accent it was so posh. She could hardly ever tell the difference between the social classes of humans by their voices; as an Dalish elf it was the same shem speak to her. All the same except Hawke’s. Her dainty aura of knowledgeable sounds and phrases dazzled her whenever she spoke. She had always been a well learned and read young bachelorette in Hightown.

“Here?” She asked again bewildered, thinking of the wider implications of her residence here. No elves lived in Hightown. “In Hightown? You be seen with an elf?” She continued to question, making sure all the tiny details were met with consent before she could beam with excitement and love. 

Hawke kissed her sharp nose. “I’d open my doors to the whole of Kirkwall. Even every templar if it meant I could live with this elf, Merrill.”

And that made her Dalish heart melt. “Ma vhenan.” She kissed her lips again with a lingering peck. She followed up with a brief giggle and move her hand to fully hold her new partner.

Hawke returned her quaint laugh. “Although I believe I’m owed a few more minutes of that honey, my love” she teased, the dastardly grin returning.

“Fen.”


End file.
